


Vampires in Bastogne

by Arwen88



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Gen, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 04:03:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20352073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arwen88/pseuds/Arwen88
Summary: In war, nobody would really notice if a vampire had gone around bleeding out the occasional enemy soldier. He would just be a random soldier, dead and covered in blood, pale and looking horrified in death.They would see one of their own kneeling close to an enemy, giving them his back, and they would think he was searching the corpse for something valuable, would totally miss that he was actually biting them.





	Vampires in Bastogne

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThrillingDetectiveTales](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThrillingDetectiveTales/gifts).

> Thanks to Muccamukk for betareading this <3
> 
> Written for ThrillingDetectiveTales, happy birthday!

In war, nobody would really notice if a vampire had gone around bleeding out the occasional enemy soldier. He would just be a random soldier, dead and covered in blood, pale and looking horrified in death.

They would see one of their own kneeling close to an enemy, giving them his back, and they would think he was searching the corpse for something valuable, would totally miss that he was actually biting them.

But in a place like Bastogne, where they were forced to stay still on the line and away from their enemies, the vampire would have to grab at the random German trespassing in the mist and bring them behind some tree and bleed them out.

***

Eugene Roe was walking towards third platoon, hands fisted inside his pockets to try and retain some heat, his head ducked while he pondered on the utter lack of medical supplies. The mist was heavy around him, the silhouettes of black trees the only thing he could see as he walked, trying to be silent and not lose his way once again. Even so, the sound of his footsteps in the fresh snow seemed utterly loud, making him press his lips in a scowl at his own inability to be more stealthy.

He was barely starting to notice how the mist was dissipating around him when all his focus snapped toward the lone figure of a soldier crouching on the snow, his back seemingly as dark as the trees around them, his uniform clearly distinguishing him as an American. There was a gurgling sound, some wet gasping that came from the figure that for a moment made no sense to the doc.

Eugene wasn’t sure at first what had made him stop abruptly, why he found himself holding his breath instinctively, his body wrecked by a thrill that awakened a memory long forgotten.

A little branch snapped under his boot. At the sound the figure straightened up, startled, only to flee fast as light, soundless like a shadow in the silent forest but leaving something behind.

Eugene remained rooted where he was, needing a moment more before he could move once more, trying desperately to dampen his fear at recognizing the sweet smell of blood in the air. Only then he noticed that the gasping was still present and his attention snapped back to the dark form of a body lying in the white snow. He ran toward the soldier, relief palpable under his skin when he saw that it was one of their enemies and the figure had not been feeding off one of his friends.

A trail of red blood drops marred the snow, a path that left the bleeding soldier on the cold ground and disappeared into the woods towards the American lines. Eugene was left gasping at the knowledge that the beast was running back toward his brothers, the men he tried desperately to protect. But as he brought his gaze back to the agonized Kraut soldier, Eugene felt a chill take a hold of him as he saw his eyes go glassy, the blood stop flowing from the open wound in his throat and the tremors stop. There was no mistaking what the creature had been doing to him, and Eugene was left horrified at the knowledge that the creature that had been feeding off that man blood had been wearing their uniform.

Nobody questioned why he looked paler than usual when he reached third platoon, nobody wanted to know how many deaths the Doc had witnessed. Eugene didn’t even feel the usual desolation that their averted gazes would have given him, so lost in thoughts he almost forgot the very reason he had looked for them. He only wanted to go back to his foxhole, clutch at his rosary and pray the Good Lord to give him strength, to protect him from the shadows and the creatures that lived in them.

***

Eugene stumbled back in a daze, barely addressing the soldiers that complained about problems he couldn’t solve. He was determined to reach the CP and tell Captain Winters about what he had witnessed, needing somebody else to know, somebody to take care of them if the creature were to target Eugene now that he knew.

Captain Winters had been with them all the way since they had started their training, Eugene knew he could trust the man, but he also suddenly felt less confident standing in front of him. He slowly rocked on his feet as he waited for the officer to finish relaying to Speirs the orders, waiting for the lieutenant of the other company to step away before he approached the captain himself.

Winters assessed him carefully, clutching at a cup of coffee. “Want some coffee, Eugene?”

“No, thanks, Captain.” He shook his head, biting his lip as he considered how to tell him.

“You do look like you could use something warm.” 

“I saw something strange, Captain,” Eugene blurted out, stepping closer. “I was looking for third platoon when I saw this thing? Kill a kraut. But just not like a soldier.” He shook his head, knowing he wasn’t making much sense. “It was like a shadow, sir.”

Winters frowned and pressed his lips, sighing softly. “It’s the war, Doc.”

Eugene shook his head impatiently, frustrated at himself for not knowing how to say it. “No, I know what I saw. They were eating this man alive. They were biting at this kraut, drinking their blood. And when they fled they were too silent.” He took a deep breath, knowing he couldn’t just say that the creature made no sound, as he was he already feared being sent to the hospital for some shock bullshit.

But right when he expected Winters to not believe him, to dismiss the very idea with a scoff, Eugene saw as Winters’ gaze shift, a little more hard, a little more sad. Suddenly Eugene was hit by the feeling that Winters knew exactly what he was talking about.

Silence stretched between them before Winters stood up and brought one hand over Eugene’s shoulder, squeezing softly in a reassuring way. If only Eugene could have stopped trembling. From the cold and the fear that maybe Winters not only knew that there was a vampire between the men, but knew who that was, if it wasn’t him himself.

“I’m sure you didn’t see it right, Eugene. You should go back to your foxhole and rest. Aren’t vampires unable to walk under the sun anyway?” He asked with a lopsided smile that shouldn’t have looked good on his chapped lips and made nothing to reassure Eugene.

***

Winters’ dismissal had felt wrong, something around the blue eyes of the captain too tight. Thinking about it as he stumbled towards his foxhole, Eugene couldn’t help the feeling that maybe the officer hoped he would stop thinking and talking about what he had seen. Maybe even for Eugene’s own good.

Eugene looked around in the mist covered woods, the hair on the back of his head standing on end, and he could have sworn something out there was watching him. But there was no one: CP too far behind his back, the first line still too far in front of him. He stopped for the shortest moment, listening to the sounds around him, but there was only the soft crinkling of the branches under the weight of snow, only his breath and his beating heart to be heard. He hurried his steps, hoping for the safety that would have come from being surrounded by the rest of the platoon.

After years trying to forget it, at the sight of the black figure reeking of blood a memory had surfaced to the front of his mind. For the first time Eugene actively tried to recollect what he had seen in his grandmother’s house in Louisiana all those years before. He slipped into his foxhole, fishing from a pocket the beads and in a whisper he started praying.

He could suddenly remember with striking clarity the first time he had felt that kind of hopeless shiver run down his spine. His mind went back to that late evening when he was barely a kid, dining at his grandma’s table only to be hushed out and sent to bed when a scraping knock came from the back door.

Eugene had been too curious to truly go to sleep, crouching in the darkness of the stairs to try and sneak a peek at his grandma’s late guest. He had wrapped his fingers around the wooden beams of the banister, looking at shiny shoes and pants cut in a classy style visible in the yellow light coming from the kitchen. A gentleman with money seemed so out of place there in Bayou Chene that Eugene had felt his curiosity only grow. He had considered if he could scuttle down a couple of steps to give the man a better look. But then the reek of blood had reached him, sweet and metallic, and Eugene had scrunched his nose, tightening his grip on the banister. The man and his grandmother had talked in hushed voices, and it wasn’t long before the guest turned around to leave, something in his hand that Eugene couldn’t recognize. He could remember how he had tried to peek at him from above, curious despite that sudden wave of terror that hit him and made him sit as still as possible. Somehow he had known the man had noticed him, even without Eugene making a sound, even without the man raising his gaze to him from under the wide brim of his hat. And then, just as Eugene had gotten the idea that the guest knew of him, the guy had touched the brim of his hat with two fingers, a smile clearly audible in his voice.

“Young man.”

Eugene had gasped loudly and only then he had noticed his grandmother standing in the hallway behind the man. She had snapped her gaze up toward him, a worry that edged on terror etched on her old face at seeing Eugene still there. She too had held her breath until the door had closed behind the guest’s back, and Eugene had wanted to run down to her, or to go up to his room, but he couldn’t move, not until his grandma moved up the stairs and sat beside him, gently unwrapping his little hands from the banister. She had brushed her thumbs over his cold fingers.

“Some things are better left alone out in the night, mon chere.”

***

The drop in Bastogne meant that Eugene could leave the first line for a couple hours, meant that he had medical supplies to bring back to his Company. He had hoped it would also mean a chance to stop thinking about what he had seen out in the woods, but he was no in such luck.

The church reeked of blood, wounded soldiers lying on every available surface, low moans of pain coming from one or the other, and Eugene found himself looking desperately over the number of men that couldn't be evacuated. There was nowhere to bring them, no way to save them if they were to stay there indefinitely. He couldn't help the knotting in his stomach at the realization that most of them would probably die anyway without proper care. He almost wanted to take Sisk back to the woods to his friends, knowing there was not much better for him in there. Except maybe a hot meal.

Just the thought of eating made his head swim, and he remembered Winters telling him to go eat something if he managed to get to Bastogne. So he stumbled up the steps, trying to get out of there, to get away from the smell of blood and wounds and gangrene. Even with all his hunger though, he couldn't help the rolling of his stomach as the sweet scent of blood reminded him once more of the creature that didn't fed like them, that would have been in that church like a fox in a henhouse. None of the soldiers would have been able to fend the creature off.

But they were probably going to die either way, he considered with one hand pressed over his lips.

The sting of the cold outside was a welcome change and for a moment Eugene halted, trying to breath in as deeply as possible, trying to leave the metallic scent behind and fill his lungs with the cool air of the breeze. He fisted his hands, shoved them into his pockets, and looked up at the sky where some snowflakes were starting to fall. For a moment he simply closed his eyes, hoping to forget everything and just let the burden go. At least until they called his name once more, and he was forced back to himself.

***

Eugene remained aside, shooting glances towards Winters as the captain spoke in a hushed voice with Lieutenant Speirs, their heads bent close as they checked a map in the CP.

He didn't really want to attract their attention, still not sure of Winters' involvement with the creature he had spotted in the woods. Maybe the man had just believed Eugene had been too tired to be making any sense, he considered, gnawing at his lips from the stress.

Suddenly both men turned to throw a glance in his direction and Eugene stopped breathing, his whole body tense and his heart thumping in his chest under their gazes, feeling like a prey under their scrutiny.

"Too clear a sky lately. Good for drops, but no Germans wondering this side of the line."

Lieutenant Dike's voice came so close and unexpected from behind his back that Eugene almost jumped, startled at finding the officer right behind him. It took him a good ten seconds to calm down and start to consider what the man said. And suddenly Eugene couldn't help but stare at Dike who was looking up to the sky like he didn't really have a care in the world. Except what he had said seemed an awfully lot like a thought straight out of Eugene's brain.

Eugene kept quiet, his mind furiously working out the chances that the officer had simply stumbled on him and had said something he had been thinking about, or if perhaps it was not so casual. God knew where Dike would disappear day after day, because surely he didn't spend time with the Company he was supposed to command. Rumor was he holed himself up in CP, except Winters who should have actually stayed there spent more time between the men than him and spent half the time asking where Dike was.

Could it have been him? Eugene wondered. For once, he tried to consider the man instead of dismissing him for the incompetent officer he had always been, trying to get over his dislike for the man to actually see if he could have been the one Eugene had glimpsed in the woods. There was a chance Dike had talked to him to gauge if Eugene had already recognized him or not.

"No mist for now." Eugene tested the waters carefully, trying to maintain a neutral tone.

Dike nodded his head, still looking at the treetops above them. "I for one have no intention to spend the night in my foxhole alone." It was a strange thing to say, even more because he should have done just that. Unless Dike was also considering the chances that the creature wondering their lines would be hungry with no enemies to bleed out. The thought of the creature growing so desperate to be brought to killing their own men was a chilling one, and Eugene pressed his lips in a tight line, regarding the man that finally brought his gaze down onto him. "You shouldn't stay alone either."

"Sir?" Eugene murmured, but Dike turned his back on him, straddling away rubbing his hands against the cold, his attention for the medic already lost. Except Eugene felt a shiver run down his spine at the words he thought he’d heard the man mutter as he walked away.

“I don’t plan on getting eaten.”

Eugene found himself rooted in place, not sure anymore if he had conjured those words simply because his mind was wrapped around the fear of being eaten alive or if he had misheard the man. Maybe he had confused “hit” with “eaten” in his worry? Any pale chance of following Dike and asking what he had said vanished when the snow creaked behind Eugene, making him turn around brusquely.

Winters stood a couple steps from him, his clear gaze fixed on the retreating back of Dike, his brow furrowed in a mix of concern and irritation.

"Everything alright, Doc?" he asked with the soft tone he used with his soldiers. When he brought his gaze back to Eugene, the irritation was completely gone from his eyes.

Eugene swallowed thickly, slowly nodding his head. Suddenly it didn't seemed appropriate to repeat anything of what Dike had told him. What if Dike had seen something in his wanderings away from the first line? What if he had somehow noticed how jumpy Eugene had been lately and connected the dots? What if there was some other reason behind Winters' dislike for the man aside for the officer’s ineptitude as a leader?

Eugene felt a cold squeeze him as he realized with an unexpected desperation that he wasn't sure if he could trust Winters anymore, even though the man had cared for them since the first day.

***

Suspicious of Captain Winters, Eugene couldn’t help but throw glances at him as everyone rounded up for their Christmas dinner. Everybody was glad for the hot food they could have for once instead of the usual rations. All of them tried to be cheerful and not think of their families at home, or even how they’d believed the brass when they’d said months before that they should have taken Berlin by Christmas.

Eugene ate his dinner in silence, sitting against a tree and watching the others talk as usual. Nobody cared to interrupt him, and nobody seemed to notice how he mostly looked at the way Winters would step back in line every time another soldier wanted a refill. The captain would smile with affection and pride at the soldiers, not seeming in any hurry to eat.

When it finally came his turn, everybody could hear the noise of the ladle scraping the bottom of the pot, and it was clear that there wasn’t enough to feed a man, even more clear after the cook apologized to the captain.

Winters’ smile though didn’t falter. He shook his head to the cook and said it was alright before turning and slowly walking back to the other officers.

Eugene pressed his lips in a tight line, a part of him sharing Nixon’s clear concern for Winters since it wasn’t possible he could be properly fed by just the half ladle the cook had managed to give him, another part of him more concerned about what it might have meant, if it was possible that the captain could have been simply not hungry for human food.

Eugene could remember some rumors about the man liking ice cream, but if he had to think about it, he couldn’t remember the last time he had seen the captain eat in front of them. Sure, he drank coffee, but maybe not all the stories about vampires were true, maybe they could eat human food too. That would have explained why Winters was nonetheless eating whatever the cook had given him under the concerned gaze of Nixon.

Not all stories being true could have explained also the reason Eugene had seen the creature out and about during the day, sun covered by the mist no withstanding.

Eugene would have preferred if that in particular had been true, if for no other reason than to have some hours in which he could not worry about that too on top of everything else.

***

Eugene frowned at his own hands, at the beads he was clutching, and tried to suppress the thoughts running round and round in his head, keeping the sleep away from him even if he finally had maybe a few hours to rest. Slowly he tucked the rosary back into his pocket and exhaled through his nose, trying to find some peace.

A scream in the night made him sit up abruptly, muscles tense, ready to spring up at the call for a medic. But nothing came. Eugene debated with himself if he needed to get out of his foxhole and check the boys, but he found he couldn’t move, too scared of what he might have found, too scared of dying as he run just behind the line. He almost didn’t breath, trying desperately to hear any sound that might have told him if it was one of theirs the one who has screamed or maybe one of the Germans.

“An owl.”

Eugene pressed his lips at the words he heard whispered through the night by some soldier or other, not really that ready to believe that the scream had been made by a bird.

A new thought presented itself: was it possible that it wasn’t just the creature feeding off somebody, but a trap for Eugene, for the Doc that would always get out of his foxhole to go check on the boys whenever somebody started screaming? It seemed possible, even more if the vampire knew Eugene had seen him.

The problem was, would the creature believe he had to get rid of him because he thought Eugene could identify him? That could be true, if he wanted to consider the chance that it wasn’t Winters the one out there, since Eugene had told the captain he had not seen who the creature was.

But the creature had to have seen him that fateful day, so why was he still alive? Maybe the creature didn’t perceive him as a danger. Or maybe it was someone who cared more about the men’s need for a doctor than for his own safety. Winters seemed the type to think about the company first and only later about himself.

If it truly was Winters, maybe Eugene could have avoided worrying about a potential attack to one of their own. Vampires were creatures of darkness and terror, but if it was that caring man, maybe they could sleep safely even with him between their lines.

“Eugene?”

Eugene snapped his gaze up, only then noticing the NCO crouching down on the edge of his foxhole, a worried look on his face.

“Is everything alright? You look... worried.” Lipton frowned a touch, kindly using that adjective instead of “scared” though Eugene was quite sure that’s how he looked.

Eugene nodded, instinctively relaxing his shoulders at the proximity of the other man.

Lipton had been there as long as Winters, taking care of them all, and for the first time in days Eugene felt a bit like letting go and spilling all about his worries to somebody.

He scooted aside when Lipton motioned him to, just a moment before Lipton slid in the hole with him, pressing his shoulder against Eugene’s in a companionable way that he wouldn’t have expected from anybody else in the company, except maybe Spina. 

Suddenly, Eugene could feel his eyes sting at that gesture of regard for him. There weren’t many that would care for Eugene, none that he’d befriended like the others had had a chance to in those years. Eugene had always known he couldn’t get that attached to somebody in particular, not with the fear of them getting hurt and him losing his focus and his ability to care for them at the best of his possibilities. Still, that contact was more than welcome, and Eugene made an effort to swallow down the lump in his throat.

He knew then that he needed to tell somebody else of his fears, that he would go mad if he had to keep it all bottled up a second longer.

“Lipton, I think there is something running between the men.”

Lipton looked at him with concern, shuffling a bit where he sat, hands tucked under his armpits. “Some sickness?”

“Yes. No.” Eugene shook his head, because even if he thought vampires must have been some kind of sickness in themselves, he understood the NCO wanted to know if there was some illness and that wasn’t what he meant. Even if he wasn’t sure Lipton would have believed him. “No, not that. I think I saw one of the guys feed from a man.” He looked into Lipton’s eyes, hoping he would see how serious Eugene was.

For a moment, he was relieved at seeing Lipton’s eyes widen in surprise and fear, knowing it meant the man at least believed him, and so Eugene nodded his head to better state his point.

Lipton kept quiet, his gaze slowly roaming Eugene’s face, studying him, and after a few seconds the man dropped one hand on the doc’s knee with a lopsided smile. “Did you tell anybody?”

Eugene frowned, feeling the cold seep through worse than before, and he hugged his torso. Slowly he shook his head, hoping Lipton would this time focus on his words, see what he meant. “He was eating a man,” he repeated, hoping it was just Lipton not understanding.

But the man nodded and squeezed his knee, the slight smile still on his face. “I’m sure… you have nothing to worry about. Maybe he was just… maybe it’s just somebody gone crazy on us.”

Eugene was not convinced in the slightest by his words, by the far away chance that was just some soldier gone crazy in the heat of the war, maybe eaten alive by their constant hunger. The hair in the back of his head stood on end, something in Lipton’s words sounding wrong, until in the silence between them he took stock of the reassurance: “you have nothing to worry about.” Was that because the man didn’t think there really was a vampire? Or because he knew who the creature was and truly thought Eugene had nothing to worry about from him? Or because Eugene had said he didn’t tell anybody else?

If it truly was Winters, and Lipton knew about it, then maybe that was why he thought Eugene was safe, same as he himself had come to the conclusion that Winters might not have been willing to bite any of the Easy men.

Lipton smiled softly at him when Eugene automatically nodded his head slowly. The smile wasn’t as reassuring as it used to be, but Eugene wished desperately he could just lean on him, trust Lipton as he used to, as everybody else in the Company did.

“Do you think you could recognize this person you saw?”

Eugene shook his head slowly, a soft “no” escaping his lips, and he leaned on Lipton’s side when the man wrapped one arm around his shoulders. “It was too fast.”

Lipton relaxed against him, seemingly relieved, and he tightened the half hug a bit.

Eugene closed his eyes just for a moment, he told himself, and relaxed in turn against Lipton. At least he didn’t think Lipton could have been the creature, too warm to be, too gentle a soul.

***

Eugene didn’t dare say anything more, even after the mist rose once more and him stumbling over another German corpse, signs of dragging behind him, the now fairly recognizable mask of horror on the kraut face. He knew he would have ignored the lot of them if he had no idea how they had died. He dared crouch beside him, checking his neck, and he almost emptied his stomach in the bushes beside him at finding the clear sign of a bite there.

He couldn’t sleep, living on the edge between watchfulness and distrust towards the men that would walk the line often, especially those who could have avoided it. Winters, for example, who could have stayed in CP but kept checking the line, worried for his men. But Nixon too, and even Lieutenant Speirs: officers that could have delegated, or that seemed to be out there more and more. They were the ones that had more chances to take a man while walking alone and drain him of his blood.

***

Dick Winters kept growing paler day after day, looking exhausted and starving, and Eugene started growing worried that maybe the man either was about to die because he couldn’t find enough blood or because he was fully human and not taking good care of himself. He wasn’t the only one worried for the captain though, Nixon seemingly orbiting around him himself, looking worried every time he thought Winters wouldn’t notice.

Eugene knew same as everybody else that Winters had taken the habit to give himself a French bath every morning, but he stumbled on his feet the day he arrived at CP in time to see the Captain half naked instead of covered by the many layers he usually wore to not freeze. Suddenly Eugene could hardly breath, his gaze zeroing over the terrible wound on his neck, a mark of an angry red and purple just the same as the one he had seen on the kraut corpse.

“Captain.” He pressed his lips, stepping closer to the man.

Winters turned his gaze on him and smiled softly, keeping on bathing. “Eugene, what can I do for you?”

Eugene couldn’t speak, not even trying to avoid looking straight at the mark that clearly said the vampire had fed on him. He felt his stomach squeeze at the sudden knowledge that he had got it wrong for days, suspecting a man that clearly knew who the creature was but wasn’t a vampire himself.

It wasn’t difficult for Winters to understand what troubled him, and his smile turned a bit sad. “I cut myself shaving.”

Eugene inhaled slowly, seeing the lie for what it was and the words for what Winters clearly had to say to avoid exposing someone.

Eugene wondered if it meant Winters cared for the creature, if in the end it wasn’t just one of the men but someone that kept gravitating around him. Like Nixon, who even if he looked tired and underfed still was clearly much more healthy than the others. Always looking at Winters, keeping close to him.

Dick still smiled encouragingly at him, wetting his towel to go back to scrubbing skin reddened by the cold.

“Can I do something for you, Captain?”

“I’m fine, Eugene.”

“Maybe you could forego shaving for a couple days, sir.” He sighed, hoping he wasn’t pushing too much. “Give your body the time to recuperate.”

Winters shrugged, or maybe shivered just a bit harder. “All of us can only do our best to support our men, Gene. Sometimes it’s about showing that you still value discipline even in adverse conditions.”

And sometimes one had to freely give his blood to a starving creature he wanted to save, Eugene read between the lines.

“I don’t think they’ll die if you just take some time off it, sir.” He hoped, at least.

Winters regarded him with a strange look, almost evaluating him. “Are we in such a bad condition that you’re about to give me a doctor’s order, Gene?” he asked with half a smile, even if they both knew Eugene was very much capable of doing just that.

And truthfully, Eugene was on the verge of his emotions, shaken by the cold, the hunger, the frustration of their condition, and now the guilt of finding out the man he had believed to be a vampire was in fact just another victim. One that cared too much about all of them.

“Sir, I’m keeping these men alive on basically chocolate and bedsheets.” He blurted out, hoping Winters would forgive his candor. “We need you, Captain, so if you could please avoid bleeding for long enough that that cut closes it would be terrific. Sir,” he added, looking into Winters’ blue eyes and feeling a little better when the man gave him a curt nod.

***

Eugene had sincerely thought that once they left the woods around Foy, their problems would diminish, the lure of time for R&R calling all of them, a promise made by the higher-ups that was not meant to be. He didn't feel sorry for Dike being taken off their Company, God knew they had never needed the kind of leadership he was able to give them, but when after the battle the truth of Speirs being their new CO sank in, he felt a cold shiver run down his spine.

Everybody had always feared Speirs; the man was a killer; everybody talked about his actions in hushed voices, joking to dispel the fear that seeing him emerge from the mist brought them. But Winters had called for him to take Dike's position, and if nothing else all the men were glad to have a capable leader once more.

Eugene couldn't help the fear that maybe it wasn't much progress, seeing that the man was probably a true creature of death, much more than the others knew.

There was nothing he could say or do, though, no matter how much he wanted to ask Winters why had he chosen that man out of all of the officers, pulling Speirs off Dog Company to make him lead Easy.

But Winters loved Easy from the bottom of his heart, they all knew it, and so Eugene could do nothing else but trust the man to care for them now that he had had the chance to give them a new leader of his choosing.

The men might fear Speirs, would never think to accept a cigarette from him or actually spend a minute alone with him, but all of them could see that Lipton was taking a liking to him, often spending his time with him and speaking quietly, sometimes accompanying him when Speirs went looking for Winters.

***

Lipton started growing paler and paler, clammy with fever and weak. Eugene didn't like the way he coughed, the way he bent in two every time, unable to breathe properly. Eugene started checking on him more often, trying not to be creeped out by Lieutenant Speirs hovering every time Eugene was around Lipton. Lipton didn't seem to mind that hovering though, smiling with a mix of amusement and affection at their superior officer.

Eugene didn't like the pneumonia that Lipton caught, but the man simply waved away Eugene's concerns, claiming the company couldn't do without him. Even if it was true, none of them had to like it.

Eugene understood for the first time how much Speirs truly cared for Lipton the day he caught them actually arguing about whether or not Lipton needed to go to the aid station and let them check on him. Not even the combined forces of Speirs and Eugene though managed to make the man change his mind, and it wasn't like Eugene could forcefully drag him away. Per tempted that he was. Speirs himself looked more murderous than usual.

With the unlikely allegiance between the two of them against a stubborn and sick Lipton, Eugene found himself having the chance to give a close look at Speirs too, and soon he started noticing how the man looked pale himself. Sometimes Speirs looked restless, not really healthy. His suspicion that their new captain was the vampire Eugene had agonized over for weeks started cementing.

It would have made sense for the creature to grow sick now even more than in Bastogne: there was no darkness to hide behind to attack an enemy soldier and feed off them. Now they were all in a city, surrounded by other American soldiers. If the creature didn't want to feed off his brothers in the thick of Bastogne, Eugene doubted they wanted to start just now. Which brought forth the question: what would they have done after the war, when they were all to go back home and live peaceful lives?

Would the creature sign up for staying in the military? Would they go back home and feed off whatever they ate before the draft came?

***

"You need it."

"No!"

"Ron-"

"I won't take it away from you, this is final."

"But you need it."

"I'll ask Dick."

Eugene stood rooted in place outside of Lipton's door in Haguenau, his heart beating almost out of his chest at the conversation he’d overheard, clutching at his satchel. When Speirs opened the door to get out in a rush, Eugene pretended to have just arrived.

"How is he?"

Speirs stopped abruptly, caught by surprise at finding Eugene there, but then he sighed deeply, annoyed.

"Stubborn and sick. Let me know if something changes," he ordered with a nod of his head before stepping around Eugene and marching down the stairs.

Eugene swallowed thickly, trying not to think about the implications of what he had heard, and plastered a vague smile on his lips before entering the room.

It wasn't like he could stop thinking about all the times in Bastogne he had seen Winters and Speirs with their heads bent close, speaking in hushed tones, or how many times he had seen them together since Winters had appointed Speirs Easy's CO.

Suddenly, looking at the pale and trembling man lying in bed in front of him, Eugene remembered how pale Winters had been in Bastogne, the horrifying bite on his neck that he passed off as a shaving cut. Now, Lipton looked up to him just as mortally pale, shivering so hard that Eugene could see it even through numerous blankets.

He supposed they had to be grateful to Speirs that the man cared for Lipton enough not to drain him of his blood even if Lipton were stupid enough to offer.

The realization though that Winters was about to do the same a couple floors below, brought a wave of nausea and Eugene had to push the thought deep down to be able to focus on his patient.

“Speirs said you’re stubborn. Tell me you didn’t want to go lead the patrol?” He asked with a fake cheer, and Lipton rolled his eyes in an overly dramatic way.

“This is supposed to be his room. I wanted to give him the bed.” He coughed just after finishing the sentence, looking a bit awkward in the silence that followed.

He couldn’t believe they all thought they were so smart with their lies.

Eugene stared at him in silence, looking Lipton shift a bit under the covers, looking generally unhappy, and he finally couldn’t take it anymore.

He reached out and grabbed at Lipton's scarf, pulling it away to bare his neck and check him. Lipton gasped, and tried to stop him but he was rendered sluggish by the fever that had risen through the night no matter the meds Lipton was diligently taking during the day. He managed to grab at Eugene's wrist only too late.

Eugene pressed his lips in a tight line at seeing the almost reabsorbed bite mark on his clammy skin, dread filling him at the confirmation of his suspicions. Except something didn't look right, the mark too old to be the reason Lipton was feeling that sick. Clearly whoever it was had stopped as soon as it started being clear Lipton wasn't feeling well.

Lipton tried squeezing his wrist, his hold weak as he didn't seem able to muster enough strength. Only when Eugene brought his eyes back on his face, he noticed how scared Lipton seemed.

"Please, don't tell anybody. You can't."

Eugene sighed softly at Lipton’s pleading, and nodded his head. He gently helped Lipton wrap the scarf once more around his neck, pushing him down when Lipton tried to sit up.

"Just promise me you won't do anything that will put you in more danger until you're recovered. Not that I don't think it has much to do with your pneumonia, but-" he stopped, scowling. He hated knowing that he had no way to truly help the NCO, hated even more knowing that the man had voluntarily give up his health to help out another man, a creature that thrived on death. But if Winters had done it, Eugene could see why Lipton would too. The two were always so keen to make sure the Easy boys would be safe and sound, or as safe as possible in this war, always selfless to the point of putting themselves in danger.

***

Eugene wasn't really sure if Lipton had kept his word, if he had stopped letting the vampire feed off him, and so he found himself keeping an eye on Lieutenant Speirs every time he could spare a moment.

He soon understood how pointless his behaviour was: he wasn’t even sure if the lieutenant was in fact the creature he had seen in the woods, the one walking among them and draining two willing men of their blood. For all Eugene knew, it could very well have been Nixon, or anyone else that had spent time with the company in all of Bastogne, Foy and Haguenau.

It felt even more pointless when he got the chance to check on Lipton’s neck once more while the man slept, finding the mark almost completely reabsorbed, a clear sign that whoever the creature was, he was truly making an effort not to drink off Lipton and to let him rest.

Not that it did much to improve Lipton’s health when the man would go around, doing his job in the thick of winter with his hair wet after the communal shower. It was no surprise when his cold worsened and the pneumonia that has seemed to be getting better got back to him full force. The man played it down, keeping doing his job, keeping away from the doctor, until at night the fever got so bad he had to admit he wasn’t feeling that well, a raucous rasp coming off his chest at every breath.

The night he found he couldn’t bring himself to say aloud that Lipton was very well on the verge of dying, Eugene had to admit to himself that despite his superiors’ warnings, despite his own wishes, he had in the end grown fond of one of the men.

Eugene couldn’t do more than try and feed Lipton something warm, keep him under blankets, try to make him rest. He couldn’t do more than worry and suffer, waiting for what was inevitably to come. And that was when a medic would do something stupid, he knew, but that didn’t stop him from going down that road anyway.

***

There wasn't much Eugene could do when Lipton started raving with fever. He sat beside his bed, holding on to Lipton's hand and gently squeezing it when the words would change into a sob or a soft whine.

Eugene lifted his gaze to Winters, who looked as worried as he did, sitting beside the bed on a chair he had dragged in from another room.

Eugene hadn't even had to leave Lipton’s bedside to warn the captain; Winters was wandering into the room of his own volition pretty frequently, concerned for his subordinate's condition. They had barely exchanged a glance across the room, Lipton's ravings a soft background noise, before Winters had gone and taken the chair, where he had sat for hours, keeping both the doc and the sick man company.

Eugene had had hours, days if he was honest with himself, to think over what they all could do to keep Lipton alive.

His soul would have probably gone straight to Hell if he truly were to hint to the only solution he could see, and still Eugene wasn't sure if it would have been truly not worth it to know that the man would survive.

He swallowed thickly, wondering what would have happen, how things would unfold if he were to ask.

In the end it all came down on the fact that there was nothing Eugene could do for the man that had kept Easy together during their darkest times. And that was simply not fair.

"Sir." He cleared his throat, feeling the words almost catch before they made it out of his mouth. "Sir, if you know somebody that might help him more than me, please call them in, because I don't think Lipton has much longer if we do nothing," he whispered, squeezing Lipton's hand a little tighter.

Winters frowned under Eugene's gaze, and from the way the man seemed to mull over his words, it was clear he was thinking about somebody from the far away field hospital. There was to take into consideration though that not only there was the chance they wouldn’t know how to treat the pneumonia in an efficient way now that it had worsened, but the risk of moving Lipton during the night while the city was constantly hit by shelling. They were already taking a chance not running down to the basement every time they could hear some shell incoming, but to take the sick man out in the open would have been suicide.

"Sir, there is so much death around us... we can't lose him too." He took a deep breath, trying to keep himself together even if he thought he was probably proposing something that Lipton might have found even more terrible than death. "If we could- if somebody could keep somebody alive just this once... if Lipton wants it, I mean." He cleared his throat, raking his fingers in his hair desperately.

Winters frowned but suddenly Eugene saw the man's eyes widen in understanding before the captain passed his gaze from Eugene to the sleeping man in bed, looking even more perturbed than before.

Eugene could totally understand, sweat beading his forehead now that he had actually said it, waiting with bated breath for the captain’s answer.

He looked from Lipton, shivering and mumbling, to an even paler Winters sitting on the other chair.

Winters took a while to speak again, but then he reached out and put one hand on Eugene's shoulder, squeezing softly in a way that for once seemed more a sign that Winters needed to steady himself. He had a grim look on his face.

"You're tired, Gene. Go to sleep," he said without looking up at him, voice steady even if he didn't look more sure than Eugene felt, his gaze fixed on the shivering man under multiple blankets.

Eugene nodded, swallowing hard, and stood up. He couldn't move away though, a hollow feeling that had taken a hold of him too overwhelming for him to cope with it.

Finally Winters lifted his gaze to him, and Eugene almost stumbled as he tried to force himself to step away from the bed. Winters' quickly reached out with one hand, wrapping it around Eugene's hip to steady him and stop his fall.

Eugene swallowed, grabbing at Winters' arm gratefully and holding on as he noticed how short of breath he suddenly was, his vision darkening and forcing him to blink hard. The first thing he noticed, when he could think once more, was the worried gaze of the captain.

"You did all you could, Gene. Now go eat something and catch some sleep," Winters said softly, his gaze open and worried.

Always so caring, Eugene couldn't help but think. He couldn't swallow around the lump stuck in his throat and so he just nodded his head.

"Let me know if something- if anything," he stopped, throwing a desperate look at Lipton. "If it changes," he whispered. He could understand that if Winters was to contact the creature, ask their help, Eugene couldn't be there. Whoever it was must not want anyone else to find out their identity. Still, it was almost painful to force himself to step away and leave the sick man alone.

Winters squeezed Eugene's hip just a bit, making him blink. For the briefest moment, he felt the sudden desire to just stay there, let Winters fuss over him too. God knew how long it's been from the last time somebody took the time to see if he was alright, always assuming he must have been.

"Where are you billeted, Gene?"

"A couple streets from here." He nodded vaguely towards east, but Winters shook his head.

"My room is on the first floor. Take the bed, I won't be using it tonight anyway. Somebody should stay here. Go and rest." He seemed to hesitate for a moment, looking at Lipton. "If you see Nixon tell him I'm looking for him. If not just go to sleep; he'll find me eventually."

Eugene nodded his head, feeling more steady on his feet at the prospect of a place to throw himself down and sleep close by, all his exhaustion crashing down on him at once.

"Yes, sir," he whispered, finally letting go of Winters' arm.

Only then, Winters lifted his gaze on him once more, looking almost surprised for a moment at finding he had still be holding on to Eugene himself. Winters let him go, pressing his lips in a tight smile.

Eugene felt the loss of the contact immediately but forced himself to step aside and leave the room.

He didn't meet Nixon on his way to Winters' room; the whole house was utterly silent during the light and noise discipline. Only when he stepped in Winters' room, he remembered his suspicions.

He wondered if Nixon was the creature, if Winters would have stayed there all night, waiting for the other captain to find him. If Nixon were the one that could have bite Lipton, eased his pain and sickness.

Eugene pressed his lips against a sob at the thought that no matter what he did, no matter how long he had tried to do everything for the boys, he could do nothing for the man. He felt terrible for suggesting the idea that the creature might turn such a good man into something out of nightmares, something that lived off death and blood, even if he knew it was probably Lipton’s last chance.

He harshly brushed away his tears and finally stumbled towards the bed.

***

When Eugene woke up, he felt better, and for a blissful ten seconds he forgot everything that was wrong in his life, simply basking in the feeling of the warm bed and clean sheets under him. It was the comfiest he had been in months and for a moment he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. But then he remembered exactly what had probably happened a couple floors up and suddenly all traces of sleepiness had disappeared.

He stumbled out of the room, trying to ignore his rumbling stomach, and he climbed the stairs to go check on Lipton.

The reek of blood was the first thing he perceived, even with the door closed, and he held his breath as he knocked before slowly pushing it open.

Winters was there, leaning on the frame of the bed with his hands, a pleased but tired smile on his lips when he turned his head toward the door.

"Eugene." The man gave him a once over, appraising how rested he looked, and then he nodded towards the man in bed without another word.

Eugene stepped inside, his gaze turning towards Lipton, and he stopped in his tracks at finding him looking so much better, clear eyes and relaxed posture. No shivering, no constant coughing, no feverishly flushed face.

Lipton sat in bed with a cup of coffee in his hands, blankets pooled in his lap, and gave Eugene a smile. He looked happy, alive.

Eugene could barely breathe, the rush of relief in his chest promptly squashed by the realization that such a rapid recovery couldn't be natural.

He stayed rooted on the spot, barely two steps inside the room, and he shifted his gaze to Winters who still stood beside the bed. Suddenly he found himself afraid to receive a clear confirmation that Lipton had been turned into a vampire himself. However, there couldn't be many other explanations. The guilt at having been the one to suggest it choked him.

Winters looked back at him almost as if could see where Eugene’s thoughts went, but before he could say anything his gaze left Eugene's face, wandering above his head, and it was all the warning Eugene had before two hands fell on his shoulders, heavy and warm and unexpected.

"Looks who came back to the land of living!" Nixon chuckled, clearly pleased at seeing Lipton from above Eugene's head. His hands squeezing Eugene's shoulders were the only thing preventing the doctor from jumping off his skin at finding the man behind his back.

Not that those hands could do anything to stop the need to throw up that caught Eugene at his words. It was a casual phrase, just something people said, but now it made for a terrible scenario, something that was being used as a joke even though it was nothing of the sort.

Lipton though chuckled softly, his gaze shifting from Nixon to Eugene, the warm, soft smile that the doc knew so well once more on his lips. Eugene felt his heart thump in his chest at the realization of how much he had missed it, how much he had been afraid of losing one of the few people he could call his friend.

"Thanks to the doc here." Lipton looked at him with gratefulness, but Eugene shook his head.

"I did nothing," he whispered, voice hoarse with desperation.

Nixon squeezed his shoulders again, not letting him go yet and not hinting to wanting to get past him and in the room.

"Shush now, Doc. We wouldn't want the men to think Lip is capable of miracles, right? Might give them ideas." Nixon chuckled, probably joking, Eugene was truly not sure about it anymore. He wasn't even sure if it had not been Nixon himself the one that had turned Lipton into whatever he was at the moment. It could have been. Eugene could remember quite vividly the man patrolling the line in the mist of Bastogne, a lonely dark figure with troubled eyes that seemed to take comfort only in Winters' company and the liquid sloshing inside his hip flask.

Eugene barely waited for Nixon to let him go before excusing himself to leave the room, closing the door behind himself, trying not to appear in too much of a rush and not show the turmoil inside of him.

He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn't notice the man in the hallway and almost bumped on Speirs. The man wrapped his hands around Eugene's biceps to steady him, a concerned look in his eyes.

Eugene found he could barely breathe, hit by the smell of blood that seemed to pour out of the man. Speirs was so close to him, his hands so strong and steady, that Eugene abruptly realized that he would have never escaped him if Speirs wanted to kill him. With the proximity to the man, Eugene was painfully aware that he had never actually confirmed his suspicions whether it was him the creature or not. At the moment it almost seemed possible that in truth there wasn't even just one of them. And Speirs thrived on killing people, they all knew that.

"Doc, how is Lip?"

Gene blinked hard, for a moment too shocked at the concern clear in the other's voice, but then he nodded curtly.

"He's... better. Looking alive," he murmured, because it was true. It was as true as Eugene dared say out there in a hallway, but mostly because he couldn't bring himself to go back inside once more and check Lipton's condition. He couldn't have survived finding out if Lipton still had a beating heart or functioning lungs. What if he were to find out that he was nothing more than a rotting corpse simply looking alive?

Seemingly unaware of Eugene's discomfort, Speirs regaled him with an open smile that was made of entirely too many teeth.

Too many teeth, Eugene’s thought desperately, his breath catching in his throat as he focused on those teeth. Perfect, white, sharp teeth.

"Thanks to your quick thinking, Dick told me."

Speirs' words shook Eugene out of his reverie, and he swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I did nothing," he whispered, hearing his own voice crack when he was hit by the realization that he truly had done nothing, except condemn a good man to a living death.

"Don't be so hard on yourself." The smile on Speirs' lips softened, almost as if he was able to hear the doc's thoughts.

Eugene lifted his eyes, meeting the other's gaze, and found Speirs look at him strangely. It didn't take him long though to recognize it was just the same way Speirs would look at Lipton when the man was on the verge of breaking from one too many coughs: concerned and affectionate, not wanting one of them to suffer unnecessarily.

Only in that moment Eugene understood how much Speirs truly cared for them all, not just for Lipton but for all the men that Winters had put under his command.

Maybe they had nothing to fear from him after all.

"Lipton is safe, and isn't that all that matters?"

Eugene slowly nodded his head, keeping silent until Speirs finally let him go to brush past him and knock at the door Eugene had just closed.

***

Eugene forced himself to slowly walk out of the building the officers were billeted in. He walked streets covered in mud and rubble, the cold air bristling around him. Him and the other soldiers out there barely ducked their heads at the sound of incoming artillery. He turned his head towards were a shell had fallen, listening for any voice calling for a medic, but when none came he simply continued on his way. They were all too used to the constant danger of ineluctable death to be bothered by it anymore.

Eugene hadn't even noticed the moment he had finally accepted that if they were to die then they would have died, if not, there was no cause to worry. There were worse things out there.

The smoke and the snow mixed in the wind around him as he walked towards their makeshift aid station to eat something, to gather more bandages and whatever new meds had come in with the supplies.

Slowly the thoughts of the duties of the day started occupying his mind, and Eugene entrusted himself to them to shake off him the burden of his guilt.

In silence he walked the streets of Haguenau, past men that looked more dead than alive as they appeared from the mist, nothing more than a lonely guy in an American uniform, all of them wandering the streets like ghosts escaped from death itself.


End file.
